A wild soul, in the middle of chaos yet tranquil.

A heart torn into pieces could be amended, however

would lose shape, A mental blade turned a blood

flowing heart into pieces of paper. Pieces of broken

metals on motion under the hurricane, masks and

scarecrows , all this happened in a red dark

circumference, clouded with rough sounds from red

souls. Pain and hella sorrows, a tribe known for dark

spaces, filled with terrestrial energies. Dark sound’s

reiterating day and night amongst dark souls.

A freaking sensation inimical to the soul, Drowning in darkness desperately craving the light from above. Ironical faces fighting each other. All cold hearted, no atom of humanity runs through there veins, A world that needs a rebirth…